


just when you think you're all adult swim, is precisely when someone shows you to the ocean

by kitbuckle



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Arranged Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious, Slow Build, everyone is oblivious, first of several, kind of, their own and others', to all feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 21:23:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3355748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitbuckle/pseuds/kitbuckle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Laura hadn’t put her claws in his neck and let him feel what her alpha instincts made her feel—like there was a hulking black mass of fire and broken glass breathing sewer-breath on her neck, so fast or far away she could only catch sight of it in her periphery—Derek would never have agreed to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just when you think you're all adult swim, is precisely when someone shows you to the ocean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IambicKentameter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IambicKentameter/gifts).



> Title comes from Walk The Moon's song Aquaman.

If Laura hadn’t put her claws in his neck and let him feel what her alpha instincts made her feel—like there was a hulking black mass of fire and broken glass breathing sewer-breath on her neck, so fast or far away she could only catch sight of it in her periphery—Derek would never have agreed to it. Which she knew, just like she knew all of the pack. Which is why she put her claws in his neck.

And why they stood across a reinforced mountain ash border from Alpha McCall and the sheriff of the McCall compound.

McCall was younger than Derek expected, barely out of his teens, but Derek felt the true alpha power like an aura even through the ash. The Sheriff was old enough to be McCall’s dad, his face lined and weathered and his sandy hair military short. A beaten metal star gleamed dully on his breast pocket. Derek tightened his mouth so he didn’t say _Really?_

“Alpha Hale,” said McCall.

“Alpha McCall,” said Laura. “Sheriff.” The Sheriff nodded. “This is my brother Derek.” Derek nodded.

“Our tower said you came in peace,” McCall said. The compound loomed behind him, its surveillance tower looming over the trees. Derek gripped the white rag in his hand a little tighter, thinking only of the long-range gear that could be pointed at him and Laura right now.

“That we do,” said Laura. “I have a proposition to discuss with you.”

The Sheriff shifted his weight. “Propose away,” he said.

Derek’s respect for the man grew at that. He was smart—no promises, not even a promise of discussion. The more you revealed, the more someone could take advantage.

Laura addressed McCall directly. “My instincts tell me something is coming, and I want my pack protected. You’re a strong compound, but you could use more wolves. That’s why we’ve worked together in the past.”

“All due respect, Alpha Hale,” McCall said, “but we also haven’t joined up permanently in the past for a reason.”

The reason being that Laura’s betas were suspicious little shits who had yet to trust any outsider, ever. They made up for it with unwavering loyalty to Laura, but it was still the truth.

“Not to mention the risk we’d be taking letting you into the compound with an unknown threat on the horizon,” said the Sheriff. He didn’t question Laura’s instincts—smart human.

“I know,” Laura said. “I think it’s only coming for me. I suspect it’s another alpha or an omega, looking to get a power boost. When I’m gone, my pack will be able to resist this murderer’s pull, but they’ll be unprotected.”

Derek allowed himself to look down and away so he wouldn’t see McCall’s pitying expression. He still refused to accept that Laura would let herself be taken away from them, that she could be overcome by some loner.

“I also know they won’t stay with you after I’m gone if they don’t have a reason,” Laura said. “Which is why I propose that my second—Derek—and your second, Alpha McCall, give them a reason.”

The Sheriff frowned like he knew exactly what Laura was getting at, but he only said, “What reason?”

Laura tilted her chin up a little bit. Derek tightened his lips even further. “I believe the human term is marriage.”

>< 

“Of course I’m going to do it,” Stiles said.

His dad pushed away from their makeshift conference table and walked like he was leaving the room, but turned back like Stiles knew he would. “We don’t need the wolves.”

“We do,” said Scott.

“We can make do without them,” Dad said.

“Not for long,” said Stiles. “And they’ll bring their Druids with them, which is almost as good.”

“We can’t trust them,” Dad said.

“They feel the same about us,” said Scott. “But if they think that Derek is truly committed to someone, they’ll honor his feelings.”

“And if Derek’s committed to someone who will never leave the compound,” said Stiles, “then they won’t leave either.” And Stiles would never leave, not unless Scott and Dad and the rest of the pack left with him.

“That’s another thing,” Dad said. “The three of us, Alpha Hale, and Derek are the only ones who can know that you two aren’t in it for real. And kid—” Dad sat down again and leaned into Stiles’ space. He put a warm, familiar hand on Stiles’ shoulders. “I don’t want you stuck with someone you don’t want to be with. Not in the world we live in. You deserve better.”

Something in Stiles’ chest cracked. Scott was looking at him with the same expression as Dad’s, but Scott couldn’t say anything. He had to stand for the good of the whole pack, not an individual, not even when that individual was as good as his brother. Stiles knew that Scott cared about his happiness, and he’d probably support Stiles if it came to refusing Alpha Hale’s offer—that was enough for Stiles. He may never have a lover, but he was loved. It broke something small and tender inside him, but he would survive.

“Thanks, Dad,” he said. “But _in the world we live in_ , this is what has to happen.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” said Scott. He had a determined set to his crooked jaw. “We’ll meet with the Hales again, and we’re taking you with us. If you don’t think you and Derek can make this work, we’ll find another way.” He raised his voice a little. “Liam, are the Hales where we left them?” Stiles squeezed Dad’s wrist as they waited for a reply. “Okay, signal them that we’ll be right down.”

>< 

McCall’s second looked even younger than McCall. He was a little taller than McCall, leaner, paler, and wore a thigh holster on each leg jerry-rigged with pockets down to his knees. Next to stocky, muscled, unarmed McCall, he looked younger everywhere except for his eyes. Those eyes had seen some shit. There was no childish plumpness in his face to soften them.

“Alpha Hale, Derek,” McCall said. “This is my second, Stiles. We thought it’d be good for everyone to meet in person before we made a decision.”

Stiles crossed his arms and looked Derek in the eye. “I’m talkative, contrary, sarcastic, reckless, suffering from possession-related PTSD, and a fidgety sleeper. Sometimes I wake up screaming.”

Derek felt his shoulder relax for the first time in days. “I’m rude, emotionally unavailable, uncommunicative, angry, impatient, grumpy, and perpetually sleep-deprived.”

Stiles nodded. “Physical attraction won’t be a problem for me.”

“I know, I can smell it.”

“You good to go?”

“Not at the moment, but give me three minutes and some privacy and I will be.”

“No nonconsensual violence.”

“Done. No speciesist language or behavior.”

“Done.”

“And no matter what we have to do for our packs, we’re always honest with each other.”

Stiles looked surprised at that one, but also a little relieved until he covered it up with a pointed eyebrow. “You know as Scott’s second that I won’t always be able to tell you everything.”

“Honest,” Derek repeated. “Not the same as truthful. As Laura’s second, I won’t be able to tell you certain things either.”

Stiles held Derek’s gaze for a few moments longer. His eyes weren’t a special color, really, just brown, but they were so expressive. Derek had no doubt they were shouting out Stiles’ thoughts right now to anyone who had the code to read them.

Abruptly, Stiles stepped forward and stuck his hand through the ash barrier until Derek and Laura could clasp it—or rip it off. Almost no one did that. From the Sheriff’s expression, Derek guessed that he’d rather Stiles hadn’t. Derek took Stiles’ hand—long-fingered, uncalloused but strong—and squeezed.

>< 

The idea was to send Stiles and Derek on a long-term mission together, and they’d come back all in love and married and stuff.

The McCalls were the ones with all the tech, though, so the day after the super-secret confab at the compound’s ash border, Laura Hale brought her whole pack to what Liam called the “main gate.” Besides Laura and Derek, there were eleven of them: eight wolves, two Druids, and one very scary human with claw scars on her neck. They would camp inside the McCall borders to better keep tabs on Stiles and Derek’s progress.

Stiles met them in the yard—the patch of dusty ground in the middle of the tower, the dorms, and the garden. He made sure to give Derek elevator eyes as he approached. “Alpha Hale, good to see you again.”

Laura shook his hand and discreetly brought her fingertips to her nose to get his scent—a combination of werewolf and human greetings. “Stiles. Is Alpha McCall busy?”

“Just squaring away the tech with our guys.” Right on cue, Stiles’ comm crackled.

 _“Sparky, this is a comm check, do you read?”_ Danny asked.

“Roger, Tower, coming in clear. Is Scott still up there? The Hales are here.”

Danny sighed. _“Fearless Leader is on his way down.”_

“Thank you Danny.” Stiles prepared to close the line.

 _“And tell Ethan that if he so much as_ looks _at the tower door, I’ll get Kira to shock his ass into next month.”_

The Hale pack turned as a unit to look at the twins, one of whom was snickering. The other tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, as if accepting a challenge.

“Roger, Tower,” Stiles said, trying hard not to laugh. Derek smirked at him.

“Such discipline,” said a voice from the back. Peter. Laura and Derek’s uncle, and the only wolf in the Hale pack over thirty.

“Where it counts,” Stiles said, making his grin toothy.     

>< 

McCall gave them two months—Laura gave them one. Officially, they were going to treat with the faerie tribe fifty miles south and help them with a brace of gnomes that had been picking off their elderly. Unofficially, they’d deal with the gnomes, and then spend a month getting to know each other and making their act convincing.

The journey south took two days. The first night, Derek asked, “Where do you want to stop?”

Stiles said, “You tell me. You know if we’re safe better than I do.”

Derek was surprised. _Stiles_ was surprising. Aside from Braeden, he’d never known a human to trust a wolf’s senses so much. Stiles’ heart was steady, though, if elevated from eight hours of walking.

(Derek could’ve shifted and run the route to the faerie tribe, but he didn’t think Stiles would’ve agreed. McCall was the most human werewolf Derek had ever met, so he reckoned that Stiles wasn’t accustomed to shifting. He didn’t want to begin this charade on a bad foot. It would be hard enough.)

They found a copse of rowan trees, probably made and abandoned by a wandering coven. Stiles sealed it with his ash. They shared food; Stiles offered Derek dried fruit without asking if he only ate meat. Derek waited for Stiles to spark a fire, even though Derek didn’t need it; Stiles just unrolled his sleeper.

“No fire?” Derek asked.

Stiles paused. “I’m good. You?”

Derek nodded shortly. “Good.”

“Okay.” Stiles seemed confused. _Derek_ was confused. “I’m gonna strip down now.”

Stiles had broad, pale shoulders. His moles covered his entire body like a negative image of the night sky. He had more hair than Derek expected, on his arms, on his chest…low on his belly. There was hair on his legs, too. He stripped down to his plain white undershorts and slid into his sleeper. Derek turned his back—he felt a twist in his gut for watching Stiles so blatantly. The least he could do was give Stiles the opportunity to look his fill, too. Derek knew people liked to look at him.

When they were both tucked in their sleepers, Stiles asked, “Do you want to…talk, or something? Get to know each other?”

It was a good idea, but Derek wasn’t a good talker and didn’t know where to start. He grunted.

“I…feel like I should know more about your pack,” Stiles said. “And you should know more about mine. If we’re really gonna do this.”

Derek took a deep breath, his exhale noisy. It took work to find the right words to use. “Five of us are related. Laura and I have a younger sister, Cora. She’s the small angry one with black hair. Peter’s our uncle. And Malia is Peter’s daughter.”

“Which one is Malia?”

“Blonder than Laura and Cora, not as blonde as Erica. Dark eyes, long legs. Her leather’s too big for her.”

“Oh yeah. Can I ask about her mom?”

Derek turned his face toward the trees. “Another night.”

He heard the soft scrape of Stiles’ hair against the fabric of his sleeper as he nodded. “We only have two wolves, Scott and Liam. But we’ve also got banshees, kitsunes, humans, even a hunter. Lots of parents, actually. Some days I can’t believe Scott technically runs the place.”

That was interesting. “They never try to take over?”

“Oh, sure they do.” Stiles huffed as he said it. “But Scott feels responsible for them—I think it’s a true alpha thing. It helps that he makes good decisions.”

Derek smirked. “And how much influence do you have on those decisions?”

Stiles chuckled. “Depends on the day.”

>< 

The next day, while walking, Stiles asked, “What do you know about faeries?” He’d done the research, of course, but they were all secondary and tertiary sources and no one at the compound had ever dealt with faeries in a friendly, not-clenching-our-jaws-so-they-won’t-food-roofie-us way.

“Not much,” Derek said. “Small, vicious when provoked. Don’t eat their food, don’t enter their rings without permission. Don’t move to touch them unless you’re friends.”

So much for the benefits of hands-on experience. “Dude, _you’re_ the one who’s dealt with this tribe before. You don’t know anything particular to them?”

“Laura does most of the talking. I do most of the glaring.”

“And you just…don’t listen?” Stiles could barely wrap his mind around it. Sure, he hadn’t focused all that well in lessons, but when it was something _interesting_ and _potentially life-saving_ —not listening? Foreign. Fucking. Concept.

Derek bristled. “I’m usually focused on opening my senses so I can alert Laura to any potential threats while she’s negotiating.”

“Is that why you’re so scowly all the time?”

Derek plucked something off a tree as he passed it and threw it over his shoulder before Stiles could react. The pinecone hit him square in the nose. In the wake of Stiles’ indignant, “Hey!” he thought he heard Derek chuckle.

>< 

The faeries were easy. They knew Derek, but they didn’t expect much of him, and they took to Stiles pretty well. He did most of the talking, and Derek was grateful for it. He wasn’t going to let go of the _you don’t listen_ remark, but he was big enough to see that Stiles was good at talking. He stood a little straighter, his hands went a little stiller. He smirked. _Constantly_. When Derek opened his senses, like usual, most of what he got was Stiles’ scent ( _sweatsapgrasspinespice_ ) and Stiles’ heartbeat ( _still pounding from the walking, increasing and decreasing marginally with the rhythm of air in and out of his lungs_ ).

After spending years exclusively with the pack, it was natural that someone new would distract him so much. Derek reminded himself of that several times during the negotiation to counteract the swooping in his stomach—which he attributed to some new brand of uneasiness.

The gnomes were easy, too. Derek sniffed them out, Stiles laid the ash, and they took them apart with claws and rowan stakes. Stiles almost licked the gray blood off his own mouth, but Derek stopped him. “It’s toxic.” Stiles froze, pink tongue still poking out, and it took Derek a minute to realize that he still had his claws extended and pressing gently into the soft skin of Stiles’ wrist. He froze too, bracing himself for Stiles’ reaction.

“Thanks, dude,” Stiles said. He pat Derek’s shoulder companionably.

>< 

They fucked for the first time that night.

Derek led the way back to their circle of rowan trees. Stiles strung up a tarp to give them shade and rain shelter. They caught squirrels and roasted them on a spit over their little fire. Stiles was staring at the grease shining on Derek’s lips when he heard himself say, “You never said if physical attraction was going to be a problem for you.”

He continued staring when Derek met his eyes—Derek had _beautiful_ eyes—and chewed and very deliberately swallowed before he said, “It’s not.”

“You wanna go ahead and give it a shot?” Stiles asked. He sounded steadier than he felt. Something about the detached way they were talking about it was making heat creep up his neck.

Derek quirked an eyebrow. “Right now?” He looked infuriatingly smug.

Stiles let himself look long and lingering—Derek’s mouth, the prominent muscles connecting his neck and shoulders, his _shoulders_ , the soft patch of hair at the neck of his shirt, his contoured arms, his thighs, the soft-looking skin of his ankle peeking between the hem of his pant and the top of his boot. Stiles wanted to suck hickeys into that skin. That’s how attractive Derek was to him.

When he looked back at Derek’s eyes, they were darker than before. Stiles made his voice low and suggestive. “Can you think of anything better to do?”

Derek’s kisses were confident, but exploratory. He’d pull back sometimes and focus his intense eyes on Stiles’ mouth, like he was reexamining some territory and how best to conquer it. The first time Stiles moaned, Derek wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled Stiles into his lap. Stiles retaliated by running his fingernails from Derek’s lower back, up his ribs, over his pecs, and into his (soft and surprisingly clean) hair. It made Derek shiver and press up against Stiles.

Stiles couldn’t keep track of when they lost their clothes—he was too lost in the sensation of Derek mouthing his way down Stiles’ chest, hot and wet and a little sharp from the gentle nips of Derek’s teeth.

“You need to get in me,” Stiles said between pants. Then Derek swallowed him down, and he forgot how words worked. Derek growled, more vibration than sound, making Stiles arch and shout.

When Derek pulled off and said, “That’s the plan,” his voice raspy and his mouth red and shiny, Stiles had to choke a truly embarrassing noise in his throat. Derek slapped Stiles’ flank. “On your sleeper.”

Stiles moved to his sleeper and unzipped it until it butterflied open. By the time he lay back down, Derek was hovering with a tube from his pack in his hand. Stiles smirked. “You came prepared.”

Derek raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t?” He asked like he knew the answer. Stiles stuck his tongue out. Derek rolled his eyes, and before Stiles could think of a retort, Derek’s tongue was back on his dick and Derek’s slick finger was slowly working into him.

“I could’ve—” Stiles gasped. “I could’ve done that.”

Derek released Stiles’ dick and shook his head, burying his nose in the trail of hair on Stiles’ lower stomach. “I like it,” he said.

Stiles bit his lip and nodded.

They did it with Stiles on his front, fingers digging into the forest floor, legs spread wide. Derek was _everywhere_ , grinding deep inside him, pressed up against Stiles’ skin from thigh to shoulders to where Derek’s toes slid against Stiles’ heels because Stiles had gasped out, “Holy fuck, I like feeling you,” when Derek had found Stiles’ prostate. Derek panted hot breath onto the back of Stiles’ neck. He pressed the edges of his teeth against Stiles’ spine, then the flats of them—but he never bit down. Stiles bit his own fist to keep from voicing the sudden, strangling need to have Derek make his mark.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” Derek said, his lips dragging against Stiles’ neck. “You feel so good— _fuck_ , God—do you feel good? Is it good?”

The urgency in Derek’s voice made heat flash in Stiles’ gut. “Yeah, shit, it’s good, I just—I just need—” Stiles thrust his hips back against Derek’s, desperate for the angle that could—

Derek hooked his arm under Stiles’ knee and hoisted it up. Stiles’ groan felt like it came from a place so deep and strange he didn’t have a name for it. Derek growled again, triumphant. “Yeah, there you go. Come on, Stiles, come on. I got you. Come _on_.”

Stiles shoved a hand down around his dick, whimpering at Derek’s urging words and the teeth catching on his earlobe. He came after a few harsh strokes, and he was just starting to come down when he started to feel Derek’s rhythm slip.

“Go on, big guy,” Stiles said. His voice felt strained from all the crazy shit he held back. He reached behind him and pushed his fingers into Derek’s hair. “Fill me the fuck up. Maybe next time I can do the same to you." Derek moaned like he was dying.

>< 

After, Derek rolled off Stiles and onto his back. Stiles held up a fist. Derek tapped it with his own. Stiles smiled, his eyes already closed. Derek listened to his heartbeat even out.

He’d wanted to bite Stiles’ neck. He’d wanted to sink his teeth into that pale, muscle-corded skin and leave a mark that would let everyone know that Stiles was protected, cared for, that he’d made a choice and a commitment. To _Derek_.

It was stupid. They’d have to do it eventually, of course. Derek had always known that the likelihood of finding a mate the way his wolf instincts wanted was low. It hadn’t been a priority. His family, his pack had always come first. And now he was listening avidly to Stiles’ soft breathing and small satisfied noises as he stretched. Stiles’ scent was seared into his nostrils, into his brain. It was stupid. He liked Stiles fine, and they had really good sex. That’s all it would be.

For the sake of Derek’s stupid, aching, wolfy heart, that’s what he had to believe.

**Author's Note:**

> You can check out my other writing on my tumblr, kit-moosebuckle, by clicking the "My Writing" button on the left side of the screen. I also run a small fic rec side blog (moosebuckle-ficrecs). Come say hi! :)


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